


could be something if we tried

by cosmicwritings



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Like Post War???, beginning of their relationship???? anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwritings/pseuds/cosmicwritings
Summary: "i'd like it if you stayed."





	

**Author's Note:**

> @neymaarsjr requested: "i'd like it if you stayed." + dramione. LISTEN i posted this originally on my blog @charliegardners under /tagged/dramione* literally 7 months ago pls i was planning angst but wanted fluff. title is from make you stayby the girl and the dreamcatcher!!!

They aren’t together.

Not officially, not even between them. She spends a lot of time at his place, and him at hers. They kiss in the comfort of their guarded homes or shadows in public. He sends her owls when she’s at work, so she can smile at it and tuck it into her bag to keep. She leaves hair bands and hairpins scattered around his place. She finds one of his shirts in a pile next to her bed more days than not. He takes books from her collection to read. They fall asleep together and they wake up together. He has coffee already ready when she wakes in the mornings, because he’s always always always up before her. 

They act like a couple sometimes, but they’re not. They’re not.

 

She only tells her friends that she’s seeing someone, not mentioning a name directly. She thinks they mostly guess, but they don’t say anything. She expects that they would, so she is grateful for small miracles like this.

To her knowledge, he doesn’t tell any of his friends about any of this, and it should hurt, she guesses, but she really can’t bring herself to ask. She doesn’t want to ask. If there’s one consistency in her life, it’s her thinking too much all the time, and she refuses to let it ruin such a thing that makes her so goddamn happy. Their business is between them, she supposes. 

She wakes to the usual smell of coffee one morning, and she doesn’t even look at the empty space next to her anymore. Pushing herself up with a yawn, she pulls on a shirt of his left in a folded pile on the floor and shuffles out of the bedroom, towards the kitchen. 

“Morning,” she murmurs, pressing her forehead against his shoulder as she rubs her eyes. He’s leaning against the counter, sipping from a steaming cup, and he wrinkles his nose at her in acknowledgement. Her arm reaches out around him to grab a mug for herself. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots The Daily Prophet on the table and pushes off against him to make her way so she can sit. Her fingers wrap around her mug to let the warmth seep through her skin as she half-heartedly let her eyes settle on the front page. She blows irritably at a lock of her hair springing forward into her face, and she startles when he speaks, the coffee sloshing slightly over the edge of her mug.

“I’d like it if you stayed.”

His words are not hesitant. She wonders at what point did she start being able to read him like her favourite book; she looks into his face, hears his tone, and knows he has thought about this for a long time. For this, she does not ask if he is sure.

Instead, she says, “Parkinson and Zabini are coming by today.” It is not a question, but a statement. A reminder. She’s meant to be gone by then.

He throws her an exasperated look, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

Her mouth opens to say something, but she closes it again. She’s vaguely aware of the scalding liquid burning her skin. Pausing for a moment, she watches him avoid her gaze. It’s her natural instinct to ask questions, it always is, and it’s like he can feel her internal struggle, because he turns to smirk at her. She doesn’t return it; it’s with a jolt she realises that he’s nervous. She still hasn’t answered him. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“All right.” 

She sets down her mug, a sharp clatter on the table without the coffee coaster that he’s no doubt going to complain about later, and walks towards the counter to reach the sink. The cold water soothes the burn on her hand, and then she feels him behind her without needing to turn around. It’s how it is now; she can sense his presence like a lingering shadow, before his arms snake around her waist and pulls her closer to him, and they’re just leaning on each other for a while.


End file.
